In about a quarter of an hour he returned. "If you please, sir," said
he, laughing, "I sent the boy down to the surgeon to be examined, and he
refused to strip. The surgeon says that he thinks she is a woman. I have
had her up on the quarter-deck, and she refuses to answer any questions,
and requires to speak with you."
"With me!" said O'Brien, with surprise. "Oh! one of the men's wives, I
suppose, trying to steal a march upon us. Well, send her down here,
Osbaldistone, and I'll prove to her the moral impossibility of her
sailing in his Majesty's brig _Rattlesnake_."
In a few minutes the first lieutenant sent her down to the cabin door,
and I was about to retire as she entered; but O'Brien stopped me. "Stay,
Peter: my reputation will be at stake if I'm left all alone," said he,
laughing.
The sentry opened the door, and whether boy or girl, a more interesting
face I never beheld; the hair was cut close, and I could not tell
whether the surgeon's suspicions were correct.
"You wish to speak--holy St Patrick!" cried O'Brien, looking earnestly
at her features; and O'Brien covered his face and bent over the table,
exclaiming, "My God, my God!"
In the meantime the colour of the young person fled from her
countenance, and then rushed into it again, alternately leaving it pale
and suffused with blushes. I perceived a trembling over the frame, the
knees shook and knocked together, and had I not hastened, she--for a
female it was--would have fallen on the deck.
Pages:
476
477
478
479
480
481
482
483
484
485
486
487
488
489
490
491
492
493
494
495
496
497
498
499
500